Deep Thought Fat Trel

[Intro]
No Secrets
Slutty boy, young millionaire, put 'em in in a straight shit

[Verse 1]
Smoking weed and collecting thoughts
Fuck the school, the principal and the lessons taught
Intellectual pussy'll put a hex on you
I'm flexing with this weapon and forty Mexicans next to you
Stretching in the coupe, getting drunk as shit watching juice
Outside the booth feeling like, "Fuck it, do you"
And for real the old-head crew should thank the fool
'Cause I wrote this song when I wasn't in the writin' mood

[Verse 2]
Now ask any rapper "Is that hard to do?"
And if they shall lie, shells fly
To tell the truth, police can smell lies
So Federale interrogations get no replies
Voila, just got off my second high
Don't be asking questions and stressing
Just make like best, and buy
And if not, get the fuck on
And there's no days off, so we fuck on

[Verse 3]
Cooling in the board room
Daydreaming on how I'm 'a be winning the awards soon
Wasn't born with a silver spoon
So I had to get up and get it, living with war wounds
Bitch, I got a hundred stories like old folks
That'll get you high, a hundred stories like old dope
And I really don't remember my first sale
But it was either bread and orange ale, or some old soup